Swoon
by digthewriter
Summary: Draco shows up to the masquerade ball and Potter has no clue who he's dancing with.


**SWOON**

All my thanks to C and N for the beta. All the remaining mistakes are mine. | I do not own the characters. This is for fun, and no offence is intended.

* * *

Potter's eyes were on him from the moment he'd entered the room.

Draco had done a good job with his mask, and with the way his hood was hiding his hair, he was certain no one was going to recognise him. But with the way Potter was looking at him, Draco almost wasn't sure. It wasn't impossible to recognise Potter, though, he hadn't done a very good job to hide himself.

He was wearing glasses under his mask and his scar was visible. Besides, Draco would have identified those green eyes anywhere. There was a time when he'd spent a very while staring at Potter's altered face. Potter had been captured and brought to his home. They'd looked at each other, and even though he knew, Draco hadn't confirmed knowing him. Because deep down, he didn't want _him_ to get Potter.

He knew him then, and he knew him now.

"Hi," Potter said to Draco as soon as he'd approached him.

"Hello," Draco replied calmly. He wasn't going to give him, or anyone else in the room, any hints to who he was.

"Do you want to dance?" Potter asked, and Draco was taken back by the forward question.

"I just got here," Draco said.

"I know, but you're not any of my friends, and we're supposed to be mingling with people we don't know so— why not?"

Draco pretended to think it over and nodded. "So you don't know who I am?"

Potter shook his head. "There is something familiar about you, but I've been thinking that about everyone here. I probably see you every day but thanks to your costume, I can't tell."

"Aren't you afraid everyone will think it odd you're not dancing with a girl? There _are_ plenty of girls here." Draco looked around the room in order to avoid eye contact with Potter. He didn't want Potter to catch on to who he was.

As Draco looked around the room, he could spot Blaise immediately. Not because of his skin colour or anything, but because of the way he was holding his drink. Blaise had hurt his shoulder on the Quidditch Pitch last week, and he was standing up straighter—he didn't want anyone to know he was still hurt. Pansy was across the hall from him, and she was searching for someone…Probably Draco. She wore a satin blue mask and her hair was spelled to be red with blue streaks to match the blue in the mask. She was tapping her left foot, the thing she did when she was nervous, and she kept on getting distracted by the bloke speaking to her.

"It might as well come out to everyone now," Potter said, bringing Draco's attention back to him. "My friends already know, and if you said yes to dancing with me then that means you don't care for dancing with girls, either."

"Oh," Draco said. "About that…" Draco hadn't been in the closet, not really, but he had never been out about his sexuality, either. When his father had asked him point blank, Draco had not denied it. He fancied boys. He'd known this about him since the first time he'd held a boy's hand. It wasn't the same feeling he'd had when he'd held Pansy's hand, or rested his head in Pansy's lap. There was something missing with Pansy and even if Blaise was like a brother to him, Blaise's was a body he could press against and feel good.

And then there was Potter. Draco had known about that for a very long time. Not about Potter's sexuality, but the way his own acted up around Potter.

Draco knew he'd been quiet for too long so he opted to say something, but Potter was staring right down to Draco's lips. Glaring, really, and Draco bit his lower lip without thinking about it. He probably shouldn't have done that.

"I'm Harry," Potter said, almost distracted, and Draco laughed.

When Potter looked confused, Draco added, "Yes, I know who you are, Po—Harry." Draco gestured towards Potter's forehead.

"I know I didn't do a very good disguise." _Or at all_ , Draco thought. "Hermione yelled at me about it for ten minutes. But I don't care. I thought this whole Ball idea was stupid, anyway."

"Then why did you show up?"

"My friends made me."

"You do everything your friends ask?"

"Don't you?"

Draco wanted to say he didn't have any friends but refrained. "I think that's kind of a requirement about friendships. You're forced into doing things you don't want to." _And some family can make you do that too_.

"So I told them, if I dance, I'm going to dance with blokes, and they're going to have to deal. No one would dare confront me about it, of course. But I am sure everyone will go running up to Ron and Hermione about me being gay."

Potter gave a nervous laugh, as if he thought he'd spoken too much, and then he pulled Draco closer and twirled them around. Draco took this time to reflect on how good Potter was at dancing. The last time Draco had seen Potter dance was at the Yule Ball in their fourth year, and he was fumbling his way through it. But not tonight. When Draco was about to give Potter a compliment, he noticed Potter looking around the room. At first, Draco thought maybe he was seeing how others were reacting, but a moment later, he came to the conclusion Potter was looking for someone.

"Who are you searching for?"

Potter shook his head. "No one."

"Right," Draco said. So he had no idea who Draco was and was apparently using Draco to make someone else jealous. Brilliant.

The way Draco figured, he had two choices. He could have walked away in that instant, and let Potter mull over whatever and whoever he was looking for, or, he could make this the best dance Potter ever had. Maybe Potter would forget all about the person he was looking for.

Draco took a step closer, closing the distance between them, and brought his leg in-between Potter's legs. The dance floor was crowded enough, the lighting was low enough, that other students probably couldn't see how they were dancing; maybe only if they looked closely.

"What are you doing?" Potter whispered.

"Dancing," Draco whispered back. He was _not_ going to let Potter go so easily. If Potter wanted to make someone jealous, Draco was going to give them a good show.

When the song was over, Draco was going to take his leave, but Potter didn't let him go. He seemed almost out of breath when he said, "Do you want to dance one more?"

"I'm rather thirsty," Draco said, and started to make his way to the corner table with drinks. If Potter wanted to use him, then Draco was going to make him work for it.

"Brilliant, I'll come with you."

"Harry, who's your friend?" some girl asked Potter as she looked Draco up and down trying to recognise him.

"I'm not sure. It's supposed to be a secret and all, you know. And who are you?" Potter asked.

"It's a secret," she said and walked away.

"You should have done a better job with your costume, Harry," Draco said, feeling strange calling Potter by his first name. But he was certain if he'd called him Potter then Potter would immediately know who Draco was.

Potter looked around the room again. "He must have done a good job with his," he said to himself.

"Who?"

"No one."

"Okay," Draco said, getting annoyed. "If you're looking for someone, then I should find myself a new dance partner, or go searching for my friends myself."

Potter didn't say anything so Draco simply turned around and left.

He skirted the edges of the room trying to guess who was who and an hour later, Potter found him again.

"Hey, there you are."

"Harry." Draco focused on keeping his tone light.

"Do you want to dance some more? All these girls keep walking up to me and—I had a good time talking to you and—"

"Can't find the person you're looking for."

"No, I don't think he's here," Potter said. Ever the Gryffindor, Potter wouldn't ever lie, of course.

"Who is it?"

"Oh, no one. A friend. Kind of."

"Hmm," Draco said, and then agreed to dance with Potter again.

* * *

They danced for two more songs and Draco hated how good he felt being in Potter's arms. They weren't super close anymore, but he liked the feeling of Potter's hands on his body and wondered if Potter would still be this much at ease if he knew it was Draco he was dancing with. Would Potter feel this good if he were undressing Draco in his rooms right now, and if Potter's lips were as soft as they looked if he'd kissed Draco right then?

The song changed and it was as if the dream was over once more. Only in his dreams would Potter be undressing him, or kissing him, or longing for _him_. In the span of a moment, everything became too much for Draco. He took a step back and when Potter looked at him confused, Draco tried to make an excuse. "I need some air."

He ran away from the ballroom as fast as he could and went into the back gardens. He hoped Potter hadn't followed him. He placed a warming charm around him and finally breathed. Everything was beautiful under the blanket of snow, and all Draco saw for miles and miles was just a peaceful scene of white and green trees with sprinkles of snow on them. It was hard to believe this was the same place where _he_ once had been. Where _he_ had wanted to destroy them all.

Even with the haunting past constantly reminding Draco of all the things that had been, being there was good. He was finally starting to calm down and feel better. He was starting to feel more like himself when Potter showed up. _Again_.

"Hey, are you okay?" Evidently, Potter _had_ followed him.

Everyone was cheering in the ballroom behind them and Draco reckoned it was close to midnight. At midnight, their masks would dissolve and everyone would be able to see each other. Then Potter would know it was Draco he was dancing with.

"Who were you looking for?" Draco asked. He _needed_ to know.

Potter looked away from Draco, as if he were embarrassed. "I told you—"

"Tell me the truth," Draco demanded.

"Malfoy," Potter said.

"What?" Draco's heart sank, had he known it was Draco the entire night?

"I was looking for Malfoy but I guess he's not here."

"Harry…" Draco whispered but Potter didn't turn around.

"I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't trying to lead you on or anything. I was looking for him, and I saw you walk in and I thought you looked hot and wished you were willing to talk to me. I don't know, I wanted to make him jealous or something. I mean, I don't even know him well, and that's just it, isn't it? I want his attention so I thought if I was talking to the hottest bloke in the room—"

"Harry!" Draco said again.

"I had no idea if you would be gay, but I also noticed you were the best dressed person in the room…" Potter paused to give a shrug. "So I made an assumption. The only other bloke here that's as equally well-dressed is Zabini. He's standing so stiff, probably still nursing his injury, and I _know_ he's _not_ gay."

"How do you know?"

"He's been trying to pull Ginny all year."

"You can't even see me, how'd you _know_ I'm hot?"

Potter laughed. "Your robes fit you very well. I'm sure you did that on purpose, and when you moved, your arse… shit. Sorry. I feel guilty and weird because I think you're so hot, and we talked and danced and had a good time and I was trying to make someone else jealous and I'm so confused…"

Draco felt a cool breeze on his face and realised his mask had melted away. If Potter turned around then, he would be able to see Draco.

"Listen, I'll leave you alone," Potter began to say.

"Will you look at me before you go?" Draco asked softly. " _Potter_ , look at me."

Draco saw Potter's body go rigid, and he knew then, Potter had realised who he was. He turned around slowly, and Draco braced himself. He had no idea how Potter was going to take the news—the _realisation—_ he'd all but confessed his feelings to the man he was looking for.

Still, Draco looked at him straight, head held high... _he_ wasn't going to back down. Not now.

Potter's expression was soft, much to Draco's surprise, and he looked _embarrassed_. "Shit, I should have known it was you." Potter shook his head as if almost in disbelief. "I always do do the stupidest things around you. Always looking to impress you, and always _fail_."

"You have my attention," was all Draco said, because truth be told, Draco didn't have it in him to say anything else. This was all absolutely surreal.

Potter took one step closer to Draco and Draco had half a mind to step back, but he didn't. He was giving Potter his _complete_ attention, which he had been doing the entire evening. Hell, it was what he'd been doing his entire life.

And then they were chest to chest, Potter looking into Draco's eyes, and Draco holding his ground—refusing to make the first move.

Potter's hands reached up and pushed Draco's hood back, revealing his hair, and then he chuckled again. "You did a good job hiding yourself in plain sight," he said.

"Well, I didn't want to be judged for who I was."

"And I ended up liking you for who you are."

Still, Draco was curious. "Why didn't you think it was me who you were dancing with?"

Potter shrugged. "I didn't think _Malfoy_ would actually agree to dancing with me."

With his own mask melted away and Potter's eyes directly on him, Draco shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Potter's arms enveloped him again, and this time, even without an audience, Draco leaned in closer still. His leg went in-between Potter's thighs and Potter groaned before he pressed his lips against Draco's and kissed him.

Potter's lips were as soft as Draco had imagined, and when Draco slid his tongue in Potter's mouth, Potter moaned around it. They were moving, back and forth, front and centre, but their bodies refused to separate. There was no space between them, and even their clothes felt like too much of a barrier. Draco wanted to feel all of Potter against him. Still, he didn't make the move. He wanted to know if this was what Potter wanted. If this was something that would only last them this one evening, or more. Draco sure as hell wanted more. A lot more.

Instead of words, Draco continued to pour everything he had in that kiss. His hands grabbed the front collar of Potter's robes before his fingers made their way back to Potter's hair and he threaded them through Potter's surprisingly soft hair. Potter moaned again, or maybe, this time it was Draco.

How could it be too much and not enough at the same time? Draco had to wonder. How did he feel like he was dying, but had never felt so alive?

When they finally broke apart, Potter rested his forehead against Draco's. "That was better than I'd ever expected."

"You're shit for trying to make me jealous and stringing me along all evening," Draco blurted out. "Being Slytherin doesn't suit you."

"I know," Potter said, his hands resting on Draco's shoulders as he massaged them gently. "I didn't know what else to do—"

"You better not try to pull that kind of shit on me again, Potter."

"I wouldn't dare," Potter said, almost laughing, "but you…" He trailed off.

"I what?"

"You have to promise to dance with me, and only me," said Potter, and he panted as if he was still trying to catch his breath. "I can't have someone else ever touch you again."

"You can't stake a claim on me," Draco said, amused. He didn't have it in him to pretend to be annoyed. If anything, he was exhilarated Potter wanted him so much. All Draco wanted to do was drag Potter away from this place and lock him in his room, and stay there until the January term started.

"I'm not making a claim, Draco," Potter said softly before he pressed his lips against Draco's again and left a light kiss. "I'm trying to show you how I feel."

"I could live with that," Draco said. "I could also show you how I feel." He pressed his body firmly against Potter's to _show_ him how he was feeling.

"Yeah?" Potter said, his eyes slightly widening. "I'd like that very much."

"Tonight?" Draco asked, cautiously.

"Anytime," replied Potter.

THE END

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 **THANKS FOR READING**


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